


Forgotten dreams

by SerpenLupus



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Dream Sex, Dreaming, Fluff and Angst, M/M, SO, Sad, Some liberties taken, a bit of blood, angs and smut, anyway this one is probably the most explicit I've ever done, blizzard LET THEM BE TOGETHER GODDAMNIT, smangst?, this was written befora BFA dropped, very sad, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpenLupus/pseuds/SerpenLupus
Summary: So, turns out I wrote this, but never posted it here 8_D And now here I am, some 2-3 years laterAnyway, short version, Tyrathan dreams of Vol'jin.Long version, I was sad and tried to cheer myself up, so I wrote fluff and smut with a hopefull ending.Enjoy!(this was written before BFA dropped and we knew of Vol'jin's ghostly questline, so interpret it as you please)
Relationships: Tyrathan Khort & Vol'jin, Tyrathan Khort/Vol'jin, tyrajin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	Forgotten dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This gets explicit and emotional quickly, you have been warned

The nights at trueshot lodge were always cold. Not a big surprise, since they were located at the top of a fairly high peak, but this one was turning out particularly chilly. So much so, that the familiar shiver running through Tyrathan Khort’s spine made him consider using an extra bearskin for his bed. The cold also made him think of a different peak, far to the south; of pandaren monks and walls of stone, of red hair and blue skin…

The hunter stopped what he was doing for a moment and inhaled deeply, then sighed heavily, his breath turning into vapor. _“It's enough for today, I can’t work with this light”_ he told himself, placing the unfinished piece of armor atop the others and collecting his tools. Tyrathan had no watch shift that night, and as the first snowflakes started to fall, he headed to his tent. On his way he met with some of the members of the order he had come to befriend; he bid goodnight to most, and to those that were preparing themselves for the long and cold night of watch, the man at least offered a bow of his head.

Inside his small tent, the hunter carefully put away his tools and focused all his thoughts on undoing the laces and clasps that tied his armor together. When this was done, he placed the parts on their spot next to his boots, extended his mat, and looked for his nightshirt between the furrs. He tried to keep thinking on the task, because although avenging his friend was all that had occupied Tyrathan’s mind, he just couldn’t bear thinking of him. The memories of Vol’jin, fighting beside him, playing jihui, his laugh when… 

Once again the man took a deep breath and pinched his nose bridge, trying to not let the pain in his chest overwhelm him. In the end he just closed the entrance of his tent, tossed away the rest of his daily clothing, and got under the bearskins, hoping for a dreamless sleep.

\-----

The sensation of warmth was the only thing Tyrathan noticed at first, half awake half asleep as he was. Then, as two hands sneaked from the body behind him and surrounded his torso, the familiar scent filled his nose; sea salt and spices, rainforest… a troll?

His Troll.

Those long arms embraced him tighter, and a tusk was pressed above his ear. - _Tyrathan_

The sound of that voice, even if it was just the ghost of a memory, made his heart ache, but the man turned to face the Darkspear, and his hand extended to caress the blue skin of the other’s cheek bone. Some part of him noticed, especially when looking into his amber eyes, that his Troll seemed slightly different than usual… however, he was not aware enough to realize what this could mean, and Tyrathan Khort simply stretched his body to kiss Vol’jin’s lips. The Shadowhunter answered him as always; he smiled first and then kissed him back, tusk brushing against skin and part of his greying beard.

The first time he had dreamt of his friend like this, the hunter had woken up conflicted, almost ashamed of his own treacherous mind. They had still been in Pandaria at that time, right after their return from the Isle of Thunder, and he had decided that it meant nothing. The second time, not long after the battle of the thirty-three, he woke up from a much more vivid dream, heart hammering inside his chest. At that point, Tyrathan had accepted his feelings... but that didn’t mean he could act upon them. 

In the next couple of years, after he had finally spoken to his wife and Morellan, had come to an agreement with them and had set things right, Vol’jin had kept visiting his dreams. Sometimes he could barely remember, but he had felt his unmistakable presence in them. Some others he could recall easily; they would be hunting together, what or where, he wouldn't know, and it wouldn't matter. Maybe he would simply lay with him, whispering secrets in Zandali while softly kissing behind his ear, or maybe the Troll would take him roughly, would bite his skin, wouldn’t leave an inch of his body untouched, and Tyrathan would wake up unbearably hot and with his heart pounding. He always slept alone and was a silent dreamer anyways, so the hunter’s only “shame” was to have these thoughts of someone who was first and foremost his friend. 

The man had only hoped for things to calm down enough so one day he could be able to meet with the Darkspear again, to apologize for not being there with that arrow for Garrosh, but, overall, to know that his friend was well, laugh with him, listen to his voice... Perhaps, even renew their promise of getting whomever got the other, while hoping they wouldn’t have to fulfill it in a long time. He had not wanted more, but reaching out to the Warchief of the Horde was no easy task, especially for a member of the Alliance. The Iron Horde invasion and the consequent war on Draenor didn’t make things any easier.

Then, the Legion came to their world once more, and the dreams stopped.

The man felt the stab of pain in his chest at the mere thought, knowing that this was the only way he would hear the voice of his Troll, the only way he would see his face, ever again. He broke their kiss for a moment, looking at his friend in silence, and Vol’jin returned his gaze. There was something in the Darkspear eyes… something vivid, almost real, when he smiled sadly and pressed their foreheads together. Looking at him now, Tyrathan felt as if something was squeezing his heart. It hurt so much that he closed his eyes, and kissed him again, tangling his fingers in locks of wild red hair to press him closer. The Darkspear surrounded the smaller body with his arms, deepening the kiss, and then rolled over, looming above his human, moving from his mouth to his jawline and then his neck, mindful of his tusk, to nibble on the flesh over his pulse.

Tyrathan gasped when sharp fangs bit the skin of his throat, one hand pulling a bit on the red hair, and the other one’s nails leaving a trail on the blue skin. _\- Please_ \- the man whispered, his legs going up to surround the other’s waist. - _Please_ \- he asked again, breathily. There was warmth under the pelts, their skins flushed against each other. After spending all day surrounded by the cold of the mountain, the touch felt even more unreal, and yet... it was so comforting. It was everything the hunter wished for.

One of the Troll’s hands went down to caress the thighs draped around his middle, while his mouth remained close to the human's ear, making that strange purring sound that made his tusk vibrate against the other’s throat. Tyrathan wasn’t sure of what part of his mind had come up with that, but he loved it. - _What’s the rush?_

\- _I just..._ \- the man bit his lower lip when the Darkspear pressed their hips flush for an instant, half hard erections brushing against each other. - _Please Vol’jin, just…_ \- the hunter brought his hands to the other’s face and started kissing his lips again - _please._

The Troll complied, sitting up on the furs with those smaller legs still wrapped around his waist. - _Tyrathan_ \- he whispered, one hand placed on his human’s back, keeping him balanced, the other coming to their fronts. The man looked up at him for an instant, and then hid in the crook of the blue neck, kissing the scar normally hidden by the beard. - _Tyrathan_ \- the Troll insisted, tracing down the pale torso with his fingers.

The man bumped their hips,- _please -_ he just wanted to have his mind go blank and forget about their painful reality, if only for a few seconds. The Darkspear let out a small noise, like a low growl, when the hunter reached to grasp his wrist and brought it up, licking one of his fingers and sucking on it. Vol’jin pressed that finger down to play with the warm tongue, and only then did emerald eyes finally look back at him, intent clear. 

He simply couldn’t say no to that look, and sighed before taking away his hand, - _impatient manthing_ \- the Troll murmured, good heartedly, against Tyrathan’s lips, right before kissing him. The corners of that smaller mouth curved upwards in a smile, but it became a shaky gasp when a wet and slick finger started probing at his entrance. The man noticed some sort of herbal scent then, and the part of his brain that wasn’t focused on kissing his Troll recognized it as a type of oil that - _(I missed you too)_ \- Vol’jin whispered suddenly, Zandali tones provoking a strange knot in the hunter’s stomach. - ( _It has been a while now, since the last time you answered me...)_

The man bit his lower lip, trying to keep his focus. He closed his eyes and hid his face in the Troll’s neck, taking deep breaths in an attempt to relax his body. Strangely enough, he could _smell_ him too, as easily as he had been able to do in Pandaria...

The Darkspear moved his smaller finger inside first, slowly pushing it in, then curling and wiggling it around, patiently, helping the muscle untense. Even if his fingers were pretty thick, his movements were careful, and he knew exactly where and how to touch that smaller body to coax pleasure, and not pain, out of him. When he managed to get his second digit in, he started scissoring, little by little, and by that point, Tyrathan was holding onto the other’s neck for dear life, shaking and gasping each time those fingers stretched him.

- _Vol’jin…-_ In that moment the Troll poked a particular spot inside him, and the sudden jolt of pleasure made the human arch his back and dig his nails in blue skin, the air being knocked out of his lungs momentarily.

-( _Breathe_ ) - somehow the hunter was now lying with his back on the furs, the troll looming over him, and his fingers still inside, still moving - _breathe, I got ya... -_ He murmured, kissing the paler neck. The man nodded, still holding onto the Darkspear’s shoulders with one hand and trying to sneak the other down, between their bodies, until he reached Vol’jin’s hardened cock. He started to slowly palm the head, feeling the droplets of precum gathering at the tip, and the growl coming from the Troll’s body in the way his tusk vibrated against his throat. Then he stretched his arm to reach further down, wrapping his fingers around the other’s erection, slowly pumping up and down, drawing a pleased and louder growl from his Troll. As if in answer, those thick fingers brushed that spot again, and Tyrathan instinctively thrusted back on them with his hips, a shaky moan making it past his lips. 

Then, all of sudden, the troll kissed his neck once more and pulled away his fingers, leaving him gaping, panting, and unsatisfied - _wait… don’t..._

- _Shhh, I’m not gonna be leavin’ ya like that_ \- the Darkspear quickly whispered. He reached towards some spot in the furs, then used his hand to pump his own erection a couple of times, mixing that oil with the precum to slick it as much as possible. Tyrathan extended his arms towards the Troll, and Vol’jin complied easily, positioning himself back with him and brushing his tusk against his hoary hair - _I’m here._ \- The human sighed and nodded, his hands coming up to tangle in red locks, short fingernails caressing the scalp.

- _Please…_

_-I’m here_ \- Vol’jin repeated, placing the slicked tip against his entrance and pushing carefully; the first few inches went past the rim without problem, making the human groan and arch his back, but the Troll stopped halfway, to make sure he wouldn’t hurt him. It was warm and tight inside, and each time he went in a little further or Tyrathan pushed his hips down to try and ride him, a small growl of pleasure bubbled in his throat, but he made sure to remain patient, and placed a hand on the man’s hip to slow him down.

- _You don’t need to be so careful with me_ \- Tyrathan said suddenly, with his face flushed and his breathing quick. It made his partner smile, for some reason.

- _I want to._ \- The Darkspear answered, lowering his head to kiss him again, pushing the last inch in, hips finally flush against each other. The Human closed his eyes and moaned in bliss, his fingers pulling at the red hair. Oh, but he was just so _big_ , his length reaching so deep, and his girth stretching and pushing the flesh and muscle of his insides. Tyrathan thought that, if he were to look down, he would see a small bulge had formed in his belly, and maybe, many years ago, he would have felt ashamed of enjoying it so much. Now, the sensation of being so full and stretched, enveloped by the arms of his troll, his warmth, his kisses and bites, it was the most comforting sensation… and that feeling was everything he had wanted, for a very long time.

The hunter gasped when he felt the Darkspear moving again after a few moments, pulling out a fraction then pushing in, still carefully, letting the smaller body adjust. Tyrathan loved when Vol’jin was rough with him, when he took him and drove his body to the limit, always enough to leave him sore, but never to hurt him. And despite that, moments like this, when the Troll would patiently prepare him, would give him all the attention and care in the world, as if he... deserved such a thing… it overwhelmed him. Even when he bit his lip and held onto Vol’jin’s shoulders to be able to thrust back, trying to do it harder, his Troll wouldn't let him, holding him in place and keeping that same carefully slow pace. The feelings that it awoke inside him, he felt a thousand words trapped in his throat, trying to tell this, but…

“ _But it’s not real_ ” said that poisonous voice from the back of his mind, and the pain in his heart was back in full force. _“What’s the point. It’s not real. He wouldn’t.”_

The man barely heard the other grunt, but he felt his large hands grasp his waist and lift him. - _Tyrathan. Look at me._ \- He had about a second to do so, before Vol’jin pulled away almost completely and then rammed inside in a swift move. 

The back of Tyrathan’s head hit the furs, the heel of his hands pressing against his eyelids,- _yes, yes!_ \- It just felt so good, even the slight burn from the unpracticed stretch could not dampen this pleasure. 

- _Look at me_ \- the Troll repeated, moving away one of Tyrathan’s hands from his face. The man forced himself to return the Darkspear’s gaze, hands shakily reaching to hold onto his shoulders. Vol’jin whispered something to him, and it took the hunter a few seconds to understand that what he had said was merely a Zandali word for a praise, but something inside him jumped at the realisation. Another thrust, _harder_ , and Tyrathan bit down on his lower lip to muffle a whimper, but he didn’t look away from those amber eyes, and the Troll repeated that word for him, pressing their foreheads together. 

Even when they found a satisfying rhythm, hard and fast paced, Vol’jin would give him zandali words of praise, sometimes whispered, sometimes grunted, sometimes in kisses, and it would make Tyrathan squirm, moan and beg him, but he would never look away. Not until Vol’jin changed the angle just enough and his cock insistently nudged _that spot_ inside him, and the hunter nearly screamed his name, back arching to push himself further onto it. And the Troll did it again, and again, making Tyrathan move his hands from the troll’s arms to his back, trying to hold onto him tighter. However, the intensity of each thrust and bite had him dragging his blunt nails all over the other’s shoulder blades, leaving red marks in his blue skin. Vol’jin would growl at this, hard breaths colliding against the pale neck, and his thrusts would hit that spot just a little bit harder. 

- _Please_ \- The Hunter felt close, so _close_ , he just needed, just wanted to reach down and… but the Troll grabbed his hand and held it against the furs, next to his head.

- _Not yet_ \- he whispered, teeth grazing those thinner lips.

- _But ..._ \- Vol’jin held his other hand the same way, thrusts not slowing down one bit, and Tyrathan’s body buckled and shifted under him, legs holding tighter on the other’s body, trying to answer those thrusts, desperately seeking that push that would tip him over - _Please, oh Light, please, please_

- _Don’t call for your Light_ \- the Darkspear grunted, the rhythm growing more hurried, less controlled - _call for_ _me ._

Tyrathan snapped his eyes open to look at him, the knot in his stomach twisting when he met his intense gaze - _V...Vol’jin_ \- he moaned, hands shifting to try and intertwine their fingers - _Vol’jin, please,_ **_Vol’jin_ **

The Troll let go of one of Tyrathan’s hands and moved his palm through the skin glistening with sweat; down his chest, his stomach, feeling the body underneath arch in answer to his touch. - ( _Ya did good_ ) - his voice rumbled against those thinner lips when he finally grasped the other’s erection, touching him just in the right way. Tyrathan nearly screamed the other’s name, his free arm coming up to hide his face as his whole body tensed up and he came, hard.

The hunter was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to get air into his lungs, eyes closed, but his hand was still holding Vol’jin’s, reluctant to let go. - _Hey_ \- the Troll whispered above him, between breaths, catching his attention easily. 

The man blinked a couple of times, then looked at him, and through the high of their climax a soft smile reached his lips. - _Hey_ \- he answered. The Darkspear returned his smile and settled beside him, long arms surrounding the man, and the hunter merrily shuffled closer to the bigger and warmer body as their breathing slowed down. At some point Vol’jin’s fingertips started tracing the way up and down Tyrathan’s back. That soothing sensation, together with the comforting warmth of that moment, would have been enough for the man to simply let himself drift away... but once his mind started to clear, that treacherous voice was back, to whisper, to remind him that this was just a lie he was telling himself. And the guilt and the pain followed. The memory flowed back, of the moment he received the news, the knowledge that his friend was dying, his desperate race, just to arrive late and be forced to see the pyre burn and his people mourn him, without the chance of a farewell.

_-I’m sorry…_

The Darkspear stopped caressing the man’s spine and tried to make him look up, but he kept his face down, hidden in the Troll’s chest.

_-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry..._

_-Tyrathan..._

- _I failed you_ \- He wasn’t sure if he had said or thought that, but in a dream there was not much difference, and his grief bled into words. - _I gave you my word,_ _I should have been beside you, I --_

The Troll held the hunter’s face in his hands - _Tyrathan._

_-... I miss you. So much._

The Darkspear was silent for a moment, a sad smile on his mouth, until he pressed their foreheads together, and spoke - _I was where I had to be, and you where you had to. Do not carry with you the burden of my death._

Of course he would forgive him, but the hunter could not believe those words; the Vol’jin in his dreams never blamed him, never denied him, never...

- _Tyrathan Khort_ \- the man felt his stomach jump at the tone - _why do you doubt me?_

The human blinked, confused. - _What?_

- _You should be knowin’ already,_ _that because it’s a dream, it doesn’t mean it’s any less real._

It took him a second, but Tyrathan’s eyes opened wide at the realization, and his grip on the other’s arms tightened - _...no...no, that’s…_

He was dreaming, and this was just a desperate plea of his mind, a foolish…

- _Look at me_ \- Vol’jin’s voice interrupted his thoughts again, and the man could not tear away his gaze from those amber eyes - _Look at me, Tyrathan Khort. It's me,_ **_I'm here_ ** _._

The man felt the weight that had been squeezing his chest disappear little by little, but ... - _no_ , _that’s impossible, you are...I saw your..._

The Troll’s thumb pad caressed under the hunter’s right eye, effectively interrupting him again - _my body may be gone, but my spirit is not going to disappear, and it’s here with you, now._ \- The human slowly placed his smaller hand atop Vol’jin’s, shakily squeezing it. His eyes were full of uncertainty, the fear of accepting the truth his friend was offering him clouding his hope. - _Believe me, Tyrathan._

Finally, the man nodded, and a shaky laugh, that almost sounded like a relieved sob, left his chest - _I… I do, I believe you. I believe you, I believe you_ \- he whispered, like a chant, against the Troll’s palm. 

The Darkspear embraced the man’s smaller body, kissing his hair and his forehead. - _There were times, I heard your soul call to me, and I answered’._ \- Tyrathan looked up at him once more - _And when I called you, yours answered me, without fear or reluctance.... and I thought you understood, after the dream Taran Zhu made us share._

After a long moment of silence, the Hunter’s right hand came up to the Troll’s split tusk, tracing the ragged end slowly, just as his expression filled with sorrow. _\- How can you just... forgive me…_

_-...there is nothin’ to forgive, Tyrathan._

_-Yes, yes there is! -_ he jumped, hands latching onto the Troll’s arms to be able to push himself up and look directly into his eyes - everything! Vol’jin, how can… you are… - the small outburst lost its energy quickly, frustration leaving place to desperation and hurt _\- you are… and I… couldn’t -_ the words just wouldn’t come out, sadness and sorrow gripping his throat, and in the end he looked down, incapable of finishing his sentence.

The Troll used his right hand to lift the hunter’s chin, and looked into his eyes for a long, silent moment. Tyrathan saw so much reflected in them, and he understood that his friend knew; he knew what he had wanted to say, he knew of what he felt.

He knew, and that was enough. 

The Darkspear took a deep breath, hand moving up from the human’s chin to his forehead, brushing away greying hair from his eyes and tracing the cheekbone on the way down. - _You are alive, and safe, and you can fight for our world. It’s all I needed to know, before I start this journey..._

- _Journey? Wait, you…_ \- his heart froze - _you came just to say_ _Good-bye._

That non question seemed to take Vol’jin aback for a moment, and every silent second that passed, Tyrathan dreaded the moment his friend would say that yes, this was...

Instead, the Troll carefully cradled the smaller face between his hands, and offered the man a fond smile. - _No, Tyrathan, I’m not saying good-bye to you. Not any soon._ \- The hunter looked at him, eyes full of questions and barely restrained hope. The Shadowhunter pressed their foreheads together, and spoke again. - _There is an Old Evil, deep beneath the land, stirring and waking_ \- as he talked, Vol’jin reached and held Tyrathan’s right hand in his own, - _the Legion, they only are easing their path. The people of this world, all of Azeroth, must fight, ALL of her people, is needed for dis._

- _What do you need me to do?_

Vol’jin lifted the hunter’s arm, looking at his eyes for a few seconds, and then he opened his mouth to bite into the paler wrist’s flesh.

Tyrathan jumped; it hurt, more than he could have expected. He could feel those teeth piercing his skin, and there was blood on the Troll’s lips when he let go of his hand.

- _You can’t forget this_ \- the wound was bleeding, although now the pain seemed far away, more a memory than a present sensation - _You have to fight against the Legion, you have to win, but_ _I need you to stay alive, I don’t want you to give up your life for revenge_ \- he pressed their foreheads together once more - _and when the time comes, we will meet again, Tyrathan Khort._

The hunter’s eyes widened at those words - _What? When? Where?_

_-You have to find me._

_-How? How do I find you?_

Vol’jin could only offer him a brief smile - _you will know, when the right time comes._

  
  


_\--------_

Tyrathan opened his eyes, and then blinked a few times, not being able to see anything. He realized then, that he was inside his tent... in the Trueshot Lodge, at Highmountain, draped in his bear skins, feeling warm and comfortable, which was a first in these late months.

The man sat up slowly, blindly extending his arm to find the tent’s “door” and peer outside. The cold air hit his skin with the same effect as a bouquet of water. He didn’t close the opening, and instead pushed his body forward, peeking his head from behind the heavy cloth. The horizon was slowly acquiring the soft colors of the sunrise, but there wasn’t much activity in the Lodge, just a few early birds and the night shift watch. Nothing outside the usual.

The Hunter sat back inside his tent, took a deep breath, and buried his face in his hands, remaining quiet in the darkness. He had dreamt of… him, after so long. Tyrathan could remember his touches and words, almost as if they had been real; he had to repress a shiver and a wave of agony when he thought of every caress, kiss, bite and whisper he was slowly remembering from his dream. They had felt so real, even when they weren’t, and, oh, how did that knowledge hurt. 

After some long minutes, the Man took a deep breath and pushed himself up; after all, there was only one choice for him, so he rummaged around to find the clothes he had casted away the night prior, and got ready to start a new day.

The Lodge was slowly coming to life, but it was still mostly silent, and it didn’t help to distract the hunter from the torrent of memories, feelings and fragments of his dream that were filling his thoughts. He had decided to have some sort of breakfast and then going straight to find anything to do, just, something that would distract him, but the snippets of his dream kept assaulting his mind, insistently, as if he was being punished. In the end, he changed his path and went to wash his face in the half frozen water they had at hand. He hoped that the cold of the mountain, so distant from the warmth of his dream, would finally severe the connection and snap him out of it. However, just as he was rolling up his sleeves to dip his hands into the water, he noticed something in his right arm. The man stopped and looked at his skin carefully; even in the dim light of dawn and nearly extinguished torches, he could appreciate a slight set of marks on the skin close to his wrist, some sort of… scar? 

The hunter traced his fingertips over the crescent moon shaped mark slowly, realizing that it looked like something had bitten him. _Someone_ had bitten him.

And then, he remembered.

_You have to find me._

Tyrathan Khort took a step back, eyes wide. Was it possible? Was he still dreaming?

He looked around, momentarily lost, and then looked back at the scars in his arm, realizing that the memories of his dream no longer caused that constricting pain in his chest. It was disappearing, along with his feelings of remorse and guilt, slowly being replaced by a warmth that the man had come to know very well, and that he had missed dearly.

The hunter lifted his gaze, looking at the sun’s soft morning light making its way into the mountain. 

_You will know, when the right time comes._

**Author's Note:**

> Although I didn't post this fic here, I shared it on my tumblr, back in the day, so some may recall it. I'm posting it now here, because, well, I haven't done anything Tyrajin related in a long while, and I know in this ship we are starving a bit xD so I thought it was fair to post it  
> I hope you enjoyed it at least


End file.
